Pause
by Threepwillow
Summary: Blaine's got this weird window of time in the afternoons where he invites Kurt over to watch movies. Because he and Kurt are just friends. Kurt definitely doesn't have feelings for him. There's no way. :::Oneshot, Blaine/Kurt, HP jokes:::


(**AN: **I wrote this this afternoon, a few hours before Darren's official debut on Glee. I am excited to see that after watching Never Been Kissed it is still canon compliant and totally possible! Kurt/Blaine forever!)

**PAUSE**

The weird thing about Blaine is that he keeps weird hours. Dalton lets out forty minutes later than McKinley, so even on days when Kurt has glee club they're usually finishing up around the same time. Then his family eats dinner super-early because Blaine's dad works the night shift and wants to spend time with his wife and his sons before rushing off, and then at 7:30 Blaine has to go back to Dalton for a cappella practice, so there's this bizarro almost-two-hour window where Blaine has free time, and that's when he invites Kurt over to watch movies – or most of movies. Nearly none of the movies they ever want to watch are over by the time Blaine has to drive back over to school and grace them all with his thick back-of-the-mouth baritenor instead of –

No, stop. You are doing this whole "friends" thing. Both of you know it's never going to work.

"I finally got the new Harry Potter," Blaine says to him, as they walk down the unfinished wooden stairs to half-finished new basement of his giant house, which is going to be his room once it's done. There's a tall-posted bed in the far back corner and a low-slung couch up near the middle, closer to the stairs, with a huge TV across from it. And a microwave where Blaine always makes crappy offbrand popcorn. It's become kind of a thing. Nearly everything has this sick burnt-orange seventies decorum that anywhere else would make Kurt want to vomit and take away Blaine's credit card, but here it somehow works. Blaine has a way of making things work. (_Stoppit_, Kurt.)

"Oh, good," Kurt says, ducking under the low ceiling of the stairs, trying not to hit his head in his high boots. "That's a good one to not finish. The end always makes me cry."

"Me too," says Blaine. He hands Kurt the Blu-Ray to stick into the player while he makes the popcorn. Soon the whole place smells like it, and it turns Kurt's stomach a little but it's better than being totally ensconced by what the room usually smells like, which is one-hundred-percent Blaine. And that makes the whole "friends" thing a lot freaking harder for Kurt.

But see, they have to just be friends, for as long as is possible. Kurt can't do this. He can't just jump into a relationship with the first (gorgeous) gay (and proud of it) guy his own age he's ever met, because he knows that's all it will be. He's spent four years in love with a straight guy, he knows what it's like to have _real_ feelings for someone, and not just hot and eager emotions stemming from the mere idea of having _any_ option open for a boyfriend. It can't just be the notion of having _a_ boyfriend. It has to be _the_ boyfriend, the right one, the one that Kurt wants. And Kurt doesn't want Blaine. Nope. Even if he's just the right kind of a cappella-singing bully-resisting fashion-violating sexy-smiling guitar-playing eye-sparkling perfect sonovabitch to push every one of Kurt's buttons in a hard, harmonious way like the keys of Brad's ubiquitous piano.

There's no way.

"No way!" Blaine laughs and it startles Kurt back to attention, zoning out at the disc menu. "This is the last thing of popcorn, I'll have to get more on my way back from Warblers tonight."

"Ah, bummer," says Kurt, with an awkward laugh of his own. "What are you guys going over tonight?"

"Choreography for our Christmas concert, augh," says Blaine, with a shrug and a frustrated roll of his eyes, as he dumps the bag of popcorn into a big purple plastic bowl. "If our bass section does not learn to at least step from left to right on the beat this year then I wash my hands of this whole freaking thing."

"Tell me about it," Kurt says, glad to be back on steadier ground. "Mr. Schue has actually had to physically lift and set back down Finn's feet at ND practice before."

"Sounds like Sasquatch'd fit right in." No, Kurt, Blaine's sweet warm voice does not get a little harder, a little colder when you mention Finn. It's all in your head. Blaine's just your friend. Your gay, platonic friend. It's no different than Artie being friends with Mercedes. Just because they're two hormonal heterosexuals doesn't mean they're going to date, _ever_.

They slump onto the sofa next to each other, popcorn bowl in between, and start watching the movie in silence. Kurt has seen the movie before, of course, what kind of self-respecting member of the J.K. Rowling generation hasn't? He picks out his favorite moments as he goes and briefly chats to Blaine about them – the part where Malfoy stomps on Harry's face, the part where Harry and Ron are fighting pigheadedly over the old textbooks. Blaine likes Quidditch and Luna Lovegood. Harry traipsing around doped up on the luck potion has them both laughing pretty hard, and sometime in the middle of Slughorn's weird memory they both reach for the last handful of popcorn at the same time, buttery fingers slipping past each other as they grope around in the mostly-dark. Kurt tries not to shoot Blaine a look but he does it anyway, like his body's on automatic, and it would have been grossly awkward had Blaine not done the exact same thing, their shadowed-over eyes catching each other for a brief fleeting second. Blaine's eyes are extra-green in the TV's glow, and with his dark unruly hair and slight solid form and deep intense gaze Kurt can see a little bit of Potter in him. And Kurt should not find that as hot as he does, because it's Harry freaking Potter of all things.

But when they steal up to hide the textbook away, Kurt knows exactly what is coming, and he can't lie to himself any more. Because Blaine _isn't_ just his platonic gay friend. Because these feelings _are_ real and Blaine _does_ get a little titchy when he mentions his old crushes and Kurt is pretty sure that Blaine would never end up being just _a_ boyfriend. Blaine is _the_ boyfriend. Blaine is exactly right.

Slowly, Kurt shifts the popcorn bowl from the sofa to the coffee table. While he's leaning over that way, he grabs the remote to the Blu-Ray, and he pauses the movie just in time for Ginny to lean onto closed-eyed Harry in that weird and awkward but soft and fluidly hot kiss. And like Harry, Blaine doesn't ever question what's happening. He knows what's coming, and just lets it come. Kurt leans over half on top of Blaine againt the armrest of the hideous sofa and kisses him full-on, deep and slow and utterly reciprocated.

"I thought we weren't doing this," he says, voice husky, when Kurt finally lets him speak.

"We weren't," says Kurt against his cheekbone. "But we are now."

"Good," whispers Blaine, "because now that we've started I don't think I can _stop_."

Blaine's hand is on Kurt's thigh, suddenly, stealing up to slide tight into his back pocket and Kurt doesn't even care that he's smearing popcorn butter over designer jeans when Blaine's thumb hooks out over the top and _strokes_, slow, even, heavy, like the way Blaine's tongue is slipping back into his mouth. The just-this-side-of-not-innocent touch all but liquefies Kurt, knees giving a little so he drops down closer to Blaine's oustretched torso, and when the back of Blaine's hand sweeps feather-soft across his cheekbone and the kiss probes even deeper Kurt melts altogether. Pretty much all he can focus on is every pinpoint of skin where they're touching, even through two or three or four layers of clothing, and the way that the microwave popcorn smell is disappearing back into the intoxicating scent of Blaine's living/bedroom to the point that he's basically surrounded. Hooked. And with no desire to ever escape to freedom.

"I'm going to," pants Blaine, barely able to tear their mouths apart, "be late for Warblers – "

"Don't go," pleads Kurt, embarrassed to hear the state of his own voice, desperate for this to never end. "You've got the moves down – _o__h_," he breathes, because Blaine is grinning against his jaw and cupping Kurt down harder onto his lap and sweet Sasha Fierce has he _got the moves down_. To a freaking art.

"Twist my arm, then," he says, and cranes his neck up, tendons popping in his throat, for more.

It takes them a good hour to get back to the movie – and then, for once, they watch the ending. Without the barrier of the purple plastic bowl they can curve into each other and shed their handful of tears at Dumbledore's death, taking consolation in the long full line of each other's thighs pressed together. Somewhere along the line Blaine wraps his arm across Kurt's shoulders, and where they're up against each other in the middle Kurt can kind of feel his heart beating.

"Gets me every time," says Kurt, to make sure he doesn't say something way more embarrassing. He chuckles a little and tries to wipe his eyes. He always cries at movies.

"Go figure the only gay character is dead by book six," says Blaine, laughing too.

Kurt thinks on this for a second. "Oh, he can't be the only gay one. Professor Lupin and Sirius Black…"

"Are you serious right now?"

"Well doesn't Snape call them an old married couple? And then in the fifth one they're like in each other's laps – "

"I cannot believe you." Harry and Hermione are talking about horcruxes, and Blaine is looking at him like he's the biggest loser ever. But also like he wishes they were still making out. Which, thinks Kurt, as he feels both their hearts beat faster, is pretty incredible.

"Just think about it," he says. "Two friends from school, the flashy dark-haired charmer throwing everything he has into everything he does, and the shier more reserved brunet with an affinity for sweaters…" He feels his face flush as Blaine catches on.

"I could maybe get on board with that." Blaine's grinning again and it's disarming. "Might have to watch the other ones again, though, to check that out. Maybe tomorrow night, y'know, same time, same place."

The grin crawls all the way up into his eyes and deepens into this crazy sort of smoldering thing, and Kurt seriously cannot believe that the full force of all of that is being turned on, of all people, him. Because as much as Kurt has always loved watching movies with Blaine in his weird afternoon window, he's got a pretty great feeling about _this_, too. Blaine _is_ his friend. It's just that he's not _just_ his friend. At this rate, Blaine might actually kind of become his everything. And like the hideous sofa they're curled up on, together, Kurt is pretty sure that Blaine will have a way of making this work.

The credits roll.


End file.
